“Not likely, sir. If they are they must be coming on one of the other helephants, and I don’t believe any of them can walk as fast as this one does, so they are not likely to overtake us. We are safe enough so long as we can get old Rajah here to keep on. The only thing that fidgets me is the eating and drinking.”
“I should be glad to have some water,” said Archie, “but I can wait till we come close to the river.”
“That’s right, sir; but what about something to eat? Old Rajah seems to have thought that all that was in the basket was meant for him, and he’s tucked it inside and chucked the basket away. So don’t be hungry, sir.”
“I have two of the cakes, Pete, inside my jacket.”
“What! Oh, who’s going to mind? That’s splendid noos, sir.—Go ahead, old chap. What are you flapping your ears about for? Think you can hear water?”
“There, Pete,” said Archie eagerly, “I am nearly sure now I heard a faint cry far behind.”
“Oh, some bird, sir. Don’t you get fancying that. We are miles and miles away from where we started, and as most likely we are pretty close to the river, it’s one of those long-legged heron things, and if you hear anything else it’s like enough to be one of them big frogs or toads. If it was to-night instead of being this afternoon, I should say it was one of the crocs. But I should know him pretty well by heart.”
The great elephant went patiently trudging on, mile after mile, with the heat so intense that Archie Maine had to fight hard to keep off a growing drowsiness, and he now welcomed the fact that the portion of the jungle through which they were being carried kept on sending down trailing strands of the rotan cane and other creepers which threatened to lasso him and drag him from his seat.
But no further cry or note of bird came to suggest danger from the rear, and as the drowsiness at length passed away, the question began to arise: what was to happen when darkness came on?—for the afternoon was well spent.
It was after a long silence that Archie broached this question.